Old Pawns
by loststoriesemptymind
Summary: Richard Woodhouse has been missing for three months, he's been raising his grandnephew and the Archer's have to find a way to get Woodhouse back without upsetting the CIA, KGB and a series of cartels. [title subject to change]
1. Chapter 1

The frail old man walked down the street, balloons in one hand and a tranquilizer gun in the other. That damned lemur always managed to make off with his supplies, he knew the rabid beast loved these colorful balloons and he could take him out with Sterling's extra gun. Woodhouse stopped walking, looked around and realized he didn't realize where he was. He turned around slowly and looked at the group of men running towards him, they were dressed in masks and holding something bundled up and tossed over his shoulder.

"Bloody hell! It's Sterling, he's going to make me…" Woodhouse gagged and tried not to envision the amount of cobwebs that would be inside the bowl. Woodhouse shot the man he assumed was Sterling archer and the four men behind him. The black bundle coughed and then cried, he walked over towards it slowly, tucked the gun in his waistband, he peeled black the thick black covering and saw a young boy, he couldn't have been much older than seven.

"Grandpapa?!" The boy said, he has thick curly brown hair and light green eyes. His eyes were brimming with tears but he stopped when he saw the balloons.

"What' is your name little boy?"

"Steven Byron Smith."

"What a lovely name, where is your mother or father?"

"He left… then they came… balloon!" He called out and reached for it woodhouse handed him one and grabbed his other hand. The phone on the men rang and Woodhouse picked it up.

"This is CIA Officer Slater, bring back my-"

"Slater? You don't work Sterling Archer by chance?" Woodhouse asked.

"If Archer has anything to do with-" Slater started, he was very angry and Woodhouse didn't know what he would do if he found him with his recently kidnapped son.

"No, I'm his… uh… personal butler-"

"Oh the old pushover, why do you have my son?"

"I shot the men who had him while looking for a lemur, can you come pick us up. I'm afraid I'm very lost." Woodhouse said while looking around, a black CIA van pulled up beside them and Slater stood there. "Bloody hell, that was quick."

"Hey, you need a break from that douchebag Archer, don't you?" Slater asked, Woodhouse looked around before nodding his head. "This kid isn't mine, I'm holding him while reservations are made for him and I need someone to take care of him and you look like his grandfather that had recently been killed."

"Oh, for how long?"

"Three months."


	2. Chapter 2

"Good Morning, Prince Smith."

"You can call me Steven." He said, the young boy was sitting at the large dining room table with a toy in his hand.

"Alright, Steven. What would you like for breakfast?" Woodhouse asked while standing next to him, he remembered when Sterling was a boy. He had always been demanding but he imagined that he got that from Malory and whoever his father was. Steven appeared to be much nicer and twice as respectful as Sterling ever could be.

"Pancakes, please, Mr. Woodhouse." Steven said and flashed a bright smile before turning back to his bright toy.

"Mister?" Woodhouse questioned while heading towards the kitchen, no one had called him mister in such a long time. Hopefully these three months didn't fly by.

* * *

"Archer, I need to talk to you about-" Slater stopped when Archer pushed past him, grabbed the Tom Collins out of Malory's hand and downed it. He looked half dressed with what appeared to be an uncooked egg on his shirt.

"Not right now, Slater!" Archer downed his drink and raised one index finger when Slater opened his mouth. After downing his drink he slammed it down on Malory's desk and looked at Slater. "My man servant is missing!"

"Is he about ye-high?" Slater pointed towards his shoulder and Archer nodded, "Short and looks unhappy while holding balloons and a tranquilizer gun?"

"That's exactly him, have you seen him?" Archer asked, his grin stretched from ear to ear and Slater smiled.

"He's raising a Prince right now."

"A prince?" Archer asked, "While I'm over here half dressed with the sloppiest poached egg ever, no thanks to Lana, he's dawdling with some brat."

"According to Woodhouse he isn't a brat at all, he's very kind and considerate and never wants to stop serving him."

"He better-"

"He better keep doing it because it has everything to do with why I'm here, Woodhouse had a brother that died a year or so ago." Slater glared at Archer who looked away, "He was in control of lots of guns and drugs before he died and his youngest daughter gave had a child. The mother was killed in a freak accident and the child was left in Woodhouse's care, but was never claimed." Slater looked at Archer and frowned.

"So I was supposed to allow him to go to the funeral, it would have looked exactly like this situation. With me dressed nearly like Cyril and no eggs for breakfast." Archer started angrily.

"Shut up, Archer. Woodhouse means money so he'll raise that boy from here to heaven if he wants. Keep talking, Slater. How does this affect us?" Malory asked while pouring herself a new drink.

"We needed someone to broker this deal but the group would only deal with Woodhouse's dead brother, Steven Woodhouse."

"Oh, and now you want him to work it out? It's fine, bring him to me and I'll make him after-" Archer had began punching his hand, he was going to make that old fruit eat so many cobwebs.

"He's already agreed to do it, I came here to break the news to you, you don't own Richard Woodhouse anymore" Slater laughed as Archer's smile fell and he stumbled backwards, fell over the chair and passed out.

"I swear, if he faints again I am going to make sure he wakes up in an asylum under a false name." Malory said and sipped her drink.


End file.
